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With Him

With Him

With Him

A Poem by Evyan Roberts

In his family's basement we’re watching truck drivers slip and slide. Transporting fish from one arctic edge to some other 

icey bank. As a rig slow motions its wheels, his lips swarm my neck. He grapples with my limbs and wins himself a place over my body. Pads of my fingers slowly push 

into his rigid muscles. I plead for space, as technicolor light catches the whites of my fingernails digging at him. Tipping his weight into me. Stabbing himself into the barrier of my cotton underwear, it crumples and shifts from the

wetness I cultured hours before. Panic pounding in my skull as he continues carelessly ramming at my pubic bone. Bluish hues of the truckers snowy tundra melt into his back and 

glisten off his veiny temples bulging and perspiring. Between segments the pale peach of his skin spits a copy of itself on the screen during blackouts. The force of my hands more frequent, 

more urgent, I push. Silently crying to get up. And he holds me against the crook of the couch. Holds all my immeasurable disgust, all of my disappointment and fright between his pulse 

and cracked leather. The driver saves his cargo. And I learned a lesson with him, drenched in chromosomal waste. 

Young Scum

Young Scum

Bearded

Bearded